


Talk to Me (There's Nothing to Say)

by wonker8



Series: Don't Hurt Me [3]
Category: Avengers Movie-verse
Genre: Angst, Best Friends are Scary, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonker8/pseuds/wonker8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 conversations that went south and 1 that would never take place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to Me (There's Nothing to Say)

1.  
It was never a good thing when Tony Stark stared at you from across the lab. It meant one of two things: 1, he had a terrible idea and was going to either get himself arrested or smashed. 2, he was going to ask you uncomfortable questions about your non-existent sex life.

Bruce was not looking forward to either of them.

“Tony,” he said finally. “What’s wrong?”

The billionaire looked at him carefully, as if he was making sure that Bruce wasn’t hurt. It was unnerving and annoying, especially to Bruce’s already frayed edges.

“Pepper said you and Barton went out to date,” Tony said finally.

“We did,” Bruce said softly.

“Then why did you return separately?” Bruce could also hear the silent “Why is Barton not by your side in the lab right now?” and “Why didn’t the date last longer than half an hour?”

A soft sigh left Bruce’s mouth. Option number two then. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business, Tony.”

“Did he do something to you? He didn’t say anything to hurt you, did he? He wasn’t a jerk?”

Why was it that all Bruce could see was the image of Clint, his head in his hands, as he let out a soft chuckle that was more of a sob, more of a choke, as if he was gasping to breath? Why was it that all he could hear was Clint’s soft voice, whispering curses in a broken voice, almost a hair’s breadth from falling apart?

“He wasn’t a jerk,” Bruce promised. “He didn’t hurt me. We just came to an agreement.”

There was a pause as Tony stared at Bruce, waiting for the doctor to say, “Just kidding.” When no such reaction came, Tony’s eyes widened and he let out a breathless curse.

“You’ve got to be-! Bruce, you came to an agreement? What the fuck-?! Okay. Start again. What the hell happened during your date?”

The words and the images of Clint plagued Bruce’s mind. He didn’t want to give them more power by saying it out loud. He really didn’t want to share this with Tony. Truthfully, he didn’t want to share it at all. He wanted to keep it close to himself and examine it. He wanted to dissect it, analyze it carefully, try to figure out what was said, why it was said. He didn’t want anyone to see it.

“Nothing,” Bruce said finally. “We just finally said what needed to be said. And we came to a conclusion like sensible adults on what we should do.”

“You do realize that you’re talking about Barton here, right? He doesn’t do ‘sensible adult.’ Stop trying to protect him, and tell me what the hell happened!”

That was the last straw. Bruce slammed the table in front of him; he turned to face Tony, green anger flashing in his eyes. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”

And it was only after the scream had ripped out of his throat, only after Tony stared at him with shock and an unreadable expression, that Bruce looked down at his hands and realized that he was shaking. His whole body was shaking and it wasn’t because of the brief fit of anger just a moment ago. He tried to close his hands into fists, but it only made it worse.

“I’m your friend, Bruce,” Tony said softly. Leaving yet other unspoken words between them: _”You can trust me.”_

Then he was gone, leaving Bruce to stare at blankly at his hands, his mind repeating the events of the café, trying to make him see something. Trying to make him understand. What was he missing? What was he not getting?

2.  
Thor found the archer in the range, just standing around. It was one of the strangest sights that he had seen, and he couldn’t help but to wonder over to the brooding man.

“Hail, Eye of the Hawk,” Thor said.

Clint looked up, surprised at the sudden sound, but relaxed when he saw that it was just Thor. “Hey, big guy,” he said with a tired smile.

“You aren’t shooting today?”

“Nope. Tasha already yelled at me for being stupid,” Clint explained. He held up his hands for the Thunder God to see. His fingers had been taped carefully, probably to prevent any more injuries. “She helped me tie them up a few minutes ago. Then she expressively forbade me from touching my bow and arrows.”

“She is wise,” Thor told him. “Rest is just as important to a warrior as battle.”

Clint let out a soft, “Hm,” in agreement, but Thor could tell that the archer had slipped back into his own mind, not really paying attention any more. It made the Thunderer quite curious. What was on the archer’s mind? He asked as such, startling Clint out his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh. Me? Well… It’s nothing really,” Clint said, forcing a smile.

“Archer, you make me sad with your lies,” Thor said. He moved to stand next to Clint, showing support through the small gesture. “You are free to share whatever plagues on your mind.”

“I know, Thor,” Clint whispered softly. “It’s just… Have you ever really liked someone only to find out that they didn’t give a rat’s ass about you?”

Thor frowned. “Surely you jest? The Doctor adores you!”

The archer’s muscles tightened like a coil, and Thor wondered what had happened for this kind of reaction to appear in his friend.

“Did… something happen?” Thor tried again.

Clint let out a loud puff of air that was akin to a sigh. He glanced over at Thor with a wiry look on his face. “Well… It’s over between Bruce and me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Thor froze. It was actually a rather hilarious sight and Clint was reminded of a while back when Steve had thought that he had been cheating on Bruce because Steve saw him talk to Darcy. Oh the fucking irony. He had been so jokingly happy, so fucking naïve and unassuming about everything. He wasn’t quite sure which was worse: waking up from that fake happiness or living in it.

“But… how? Why?”

Well, you knew you were pretty amazing when you could stun the God of Thunder into a broken stutter. Clint scoffed at the thought.

“We both wanted different things,” he told Thor gently. “It wasn’t going to work out.”

Thor looked at Clint much like a sad puppy who couldn’t understand why it had been rebuked. “But you were so happy with him,” he insisted. “And the doctor with you.”

The archer snorted. “Right. Happy…”

“You were. Both of you were. You lit up the whole room when he walked in. You-”

“Well whatever! Happiness doesn’t mean squat when it comes to relationships, now does it?”

Clint’s voice was harsh and rugged, almost as if he was having trouble gasping for air. He glared at Thor with a look that rivaled Loki’s look of hate, anger, and pure betrayal. Thor did not understand. And Clint felt bad because he knew that the Thunderer didn’t get it. That he didn’t understand why those words just made his heart throb with pain, with grief. But the archer could not make his voice work; make his heart reach out to him, say the words, say the reasons. So instead, Clint folded in on himself and hid from the world.

“Besides, that’s in the past now. We’re over, thank goodness… I’m… I’m just going to go find something productive to do. Talk to you later, Thor.”

3.  
Natasha was pointing a gun at him.

The Black fucking Widow was pointing a gun at him. She was keeping it trained on his chest, watching his small twitches with a cold, almost calculating look.

“Erm…” Bruce tried.

“I want to know why Clint was in the range since 3 AM, shooting arrows into the targets,” she said, her voice calm.

“He’s been…?” And suddenly, it made sense as to why Clint had been using a gun when Bruce found him earlier before the date. It was because his hands had been under constant abuse since 3 AM. Was it because of what they discussed at the café? So how long had Clint known? Since the mission? Before the mission? After the mission? How long did it take for the archer’s happy thoughts to crumble and for him to finally see the truth?

“Talk,” Natasha prompted.

Bruce was silent. He knew what he should say. In theory, he should admit to his guilt and tell Natasha exactly what happened. Let her dish out whatever punishment that she felt he deserved (It was rather unfortunate that she couldn’t kill him; nothing could). But the truth of the matter was that she didn’t know. Clint didn’t tell her a single word. Why? Was he trying to protect Bruce? Was he unwilling to admit to everyone else that he made a mistake, that his usually sharp eyes didn’t pick up on the fact that Bruce didn’t love him?

Well, if it was the latter, then Bruce had no right letting Natasha know. The Widow had no right to put her gun into Clint’s business. So Bruce did what he did best. He redirected the conversation.

“Didn’t we already establish that a bullet won’t do any damage to me?” Bruce asked quietly.

“Fine,” she said. She put the gun away. She crossed her arms and glared at him, waiting.

“There really isn’t anything to talk about,” he tried again.

She raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with him. It was a look that he had seen directed at many others before, usually at Clint. Bruce had never been on the receiving end of it before. He could understand why so many people found it daunting. In a sense, she was very much like Pepper like that.

“What makes you think I even know what this is about?”

Natasha’s green eyes stayed trained on Bruce, watching him carefully just as Clint did few hours ago at the café. With Clint, it had been just unnerving. With Natasha, it was rather terrifying. Bruce was rather surprised at how calm he felt under the stare.

“Because otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked him out on a date.”

Bruce froze. Then he shook his head, trying to shake off the images of Clint. Damn it, why was Clint hounding him now? Why couldn’t the archer just let him be? His thoughts had never hunted Bruce like they did now. The doctor just didn’t get it. Why him? Why now? The one that he loved was Betty, not Clint. Betty, not Clint. But it was Clint’s smile that he saw in his mind’s eye, Clint’s laugh he heard in his mind’s ear, Clint’s scent that he smelt in his mind’s nose…

“You’ve never asked him out before,” Natasha continued, speaking in a conversational tone. “Any other time, he would have been jumping for joy. But this time, he wouldn’t even meet my eyes, let alone tell me what’s going on. Do you really think I can’t draw my own conclusions?”

“Maybe it wasn’t anything worth talking about,” Bruce said, annoyance beginning to sparkle in his voice.

Her teeth clanked loudly together and Bruce couldn’t help but to flinch. “Then why did he look like a convict walking to his execution? You know what he’s like, Banner. He should have-”

“I know what he should have been like!” Bruce snapped. “I know because I was on that fucking date with him!”

Natasha was silent for a second, studying him and his anger. Then she rolled her eyes and smirked. “He broke it off, didn’t he?”

Bruce clenched his fists and looked away from her. But that was all the answer she needed.

“No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said. She patted his shoulder like a friend. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a tradition in the office. Before someone goes on an undercover mission, they break off any relationship they’re in. Since married couples are never sent on those, they don’t have to worry. Anyways, it’s a bad office tradition, but Clint loves dares and all.”

“It’s one of the things he picked up before going off on undercover missions or...” she stopped. Then she shook her head as if it was a silly thought. “Anyways, right before going off on an important undercover mission, he severs any special ties. He’s done it to few others before you. Don’t worry; he always gets back after returning from the mission. He’ll be back to making doe-eyes at you in no time.”

“It’s not that,” Bruce squeezed out. “It’s not for a mission.”

She blinked; any sign of personality that she was showing earlier was gone in that flash.

“We came to an understanding. We’re better off not together.”

Natasha blinked again. There was a few moment of silence, and the doctor was hopeful that this conversation was over. Then the assassin let out a sigh and began speaking again.

“Have you ever discussed your past relationship with Clint?”

It felt like someone had punched him in the gut, and all the air in his lungs had been forcefully expelled. Bruce forced his mind to go anywhere but Clint. Clint and his defeated eyes, Clint and his crestfallen voice, Clint and his stormy eyes, Clint and his soft smiles… Clint and his question. _Do you love Betty?_

“Yes,” he said softly. _It’s what broke us. Broke him._

“Did Clint discuss his relationships?”

“What’s there to discuss? He claimed that he loved them, and then left them broken. There’s no science to that,” he said. “This was bound to happen to us sooner or later.”

She gave him a flat look. “You’ve never heard? He never broke up with any of them. He never left any of them. They left him. Want to know why? They were awakened by his nightmares. Or sometimes, it’s because they saw his weapons and freaked. Few left because of his job with SHIELD. But mainly, they left because they saw his scars, both physical and mental. It scared them, so they left him.”

“Do you know why they broke after they left? _They broke because of the guilt they felt for leaving him_. Of course,” she continued, giving Bruce a shark-like grin. “I may or may not have pushed them.”

“Are you going to break me, Natasha?” Bruce asked softly.

She snorted. “You seem to be doing a good job of it yourself.”

4.  
Clint walked into Coulson’s office with a grin. “What up, boss man? Bored without my presence?” He easily took a chair in front of Coulson’s desk and looked at his old friend expectantly. In the back of his mind, he was hoping against hope that Coulson hadn’t found out about the breakup and was here to discuss it.

“Barton,” Coulson acknowledged. He threw a folder filled with files in front of Clint. “What is this?”

There was a flutter of hope at that. Surely this was job-related and not an ‘I-told-you-not-to-date-the-Green-Anger-Management-Problem-Guy’ talk. The archer glanced through the files and raised a brow. “This is the report on the latest mission that I turned in. What’s wrong?”

“You turned in the report two hours after you returned from the mission,” Coulson said as if Clint was a strange new specimen who recently learned to speak English. “You never turn in reports on time, let alone early. I have to hunt you down and make you do them.”

Clint shrugged. “I had time. I was bored.”

“This is serious, Bart,” the agent hissed. “Out of all the missions in the world, why the hell are you trying so hard to rush this mission close?”

“Rush? Coulson, what are you-?”

Coulson closed his eyes briefly. Then he opened them and stared straight into Clint’s eyes. “The target that you were supposed to take out-”

“Wade Wilson. He’s dead,” Clint said with a frown. “I put arrows through both his eyes. What about him?”

“He was seen walking through the airport this morning,” Coulson answered. He pulled up a footage of Wade Wilson smirking into the security camera. “Pray tell me why your dead target was walking through the airport.”

Clint stared at the footage, his sharp eyes never wondering too far from the smirk. “Maybe he’s coming to visit a lady friend,” he joked around the lump in his throat. This was bad. How can a dead person be walking through an airport, let alone grin at the security camera?

“Bart, you have to talk to me. What the hell is going on? Your handler on the case said that you spent about three hours with the comms off. Afterwards, you came back with the report that you spotted the target. He gave you the order; you shot then reported that the target was dead. You both packed up and came back from Nantes, France, three days earlier than expected. Two hours later, I receive a report from you, making this a case-close mission.”

“Except for the walking corpse,” Clint pointed out.

“Except for the walking corpse,” Coulson agreed. “Is there… Is there anyone who can verify that you did indeed kill Wade Wilson?”

“I’m a professional killer, Coulson,” the archer remarked. His throat was dry. Fuck. Why was this happening now? Wasn’t the whole situation with Bruce enough? Why did a dead guy have to walk through the fucking airport now? “I don’t kill in front of witnesses, and if there are any witnesses, then they are taken care of.”

“Think, Barton! There has to be a way to prove that you did indeed kill that guy! There has to be something! Anything!”

“Coulson… _Phil_ , what the hell’s going on? You’ve never doubted my kills before.”

“You’ve also never been compromised so completely before.”

Clint closed his eyes, knowing exactly what Coulson was talking about. “They think I let this guy walk on purpose?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Coulson whispered softly. He began to rub his temples. “Fuck, if your reputation wasn’t…” He sighed. “Fuck.”

Well, Coulson just cursed twice in the past couple of seconds. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Clint would have been proud of the Avengers-SHIELD liaison.

“But those worked out for the best,” Clint reminded Coulson. “Not to mention I didn’t let this guy walk.”

“I want to believe you, Agent. But the evidences are stacked against you. It’s just your word that you killed Wade Wilson versus a fucking video clip of the supposed dead man walking. There’s an unknown three hours of your mission where your handler couldn’t contact you. You have a known reputation for letting targets walk. You’ve never turned in mission reports early and yet you did for this case. You were compromised just half a year ago. You need to tell me if there’s anything that can help your cause, because there isn’t much on your side right now.”

“There’s nothing to say because _I fucking killed that guy!_ ” Clint growled. He stood up abruptly, knocking the chair back. “And if you’re accusing me of what I think you are then-”

“What do you think we’re accusing you of, Clint?”

The usage of his first name made the archer pause. He looked at Coulson and gulped. “You think I threw the mission. Sold out SHIELD. You think I made a deal with the guy, faked his death, faked my report. You think I’m a fucking traitor.”

The two looked at each other, two friends, two comrades in this screwed up world. They were once partners, long ago. They’ve been through more missions together; saved each other’s lives more times than they could count. Then a mission went wrong, Clint refused to shoot, the target walked, Clint went rogue, and Phil Coulson retired as a field agent to a handler. That target later returned to SHIELD with Clint and became the archer’s partner, his best friend, and the best damned asset for SHIELD. It had been a good call, everyone agreed.

If there was anyone Clint could trust aside from Natasha, it was Phil Coulson.

“Are you?” Coulson asked softly, breaking the last of their trust.

“Fuck you.”

Clint Barton stormed out of the office and into a group of SHIELD agents, all dressed in gear and pointing guns at him. This day was just going great, wasn’t it? First Bruce and now this. Well, at least he had nothing to lose now. He had no one that would miss him or cry for him. Bruce didn’t love him, after all.

“Barton,” someone said, “you’re coming with us.”

5.  
“Anyone else notice how Clint’s avoiding Bruce?” Tony brought up.

Currently, Tony, Thor, and Steve were hanging out together in the kitchen for another of “Welcome to the 21st century Earth” lessons. Today’s lesson was in the wonders that were the toaster, when Tony suddenly brought up a new topic.

“Maybe they had their first fight,” Steve said reasonably.

“Right, that’s what I thought, too! But then Bruce said that it was mutual, and that they came to an agreement. Do you know what that sounds like?”

“Nay, Man of Iron,” Thor said. “But Brother Hawk mentioned that he and the Doctor are no longer together.”

“Exactly!” Tony shouted. He pulled out a small jelly snack and threw one at Thor. “It sounds like a fucking break up!”

Steve frowned. “But they looked so happy together,” he said. “Why would they…?”

“And you know what pisses the hell out of me?” Tony continued. “It’s the fact that Bruce was fucking upset about this. He was shaking, and he didn’t want to talk about this. On top of that, he almost hulked out on me!”

“Do we need to-“ Steve began, looking alarmed. Tony shook his head no.

“But we do need to have a talk with Clint!”

“I’ve spoken with the Hawk,” Thor said, “but he seemed just as wounded over this.”

Tony snorted. “Don’t be silly, Thor. Clint’s a master assassin. Remember what Natasha did to Loki? He probably had the same training and can fake any emotion he wants.”

“Or he could actually be honest about his feelings,” Natasha stated as she walked into the kitchen. She glared at the three men, who all looked at her with expressions ranging from shock to disbelief to guilt. “There’s a reason why he’s a sniper.”

“Oh please, we know you’d go to hell and back to defend Barton,” Tony snapped.

“Tony, I don’t think you should get angry at her,” Steve chided. “If anything, all of us should sit down and have a calm chat.”

“And while we’re at it, we can all hold hands and sing Kumbaya.”

“Why’s everyone gathered here?” Bruce asked as he walked into the kitchen. In his hand, he held an empty pot that was usually filled with his herbal tea.

“Ah, Doctor,” Thor said, “Great timing. We wish to ask you a question.”

“Okay…?”

“What the hell did Clint make you agree to?” Tony demanded.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “This again? Look, this isn’t your busi-”

“You’re my fucking friend! If you’re hurt, then it is my business!” Tony growled. He stood in front of Bruce, blocking his access to the sink.

“Bruce, I’m afraid I’m with Tony on this,” Steve agreed. “If you’ve been hurt, then this can hurt the team dynamic.”

“Why the hell are you all assuming that Banner’s the one who was hurt?” Natasha demanded.

“You humans and your petty quarrels,” Thor said, shaking his head.

Bruce took a deep breath, willing the headache to go away. Of course the whole team had to get involved. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve tried to get involved in every single thing that he and Clint tried to do. They were there staring at Clint when after a bad transformation back to human, he pulled a flower from the ground and gave it to Bruce with a simple, “Nice job.” They were there to look baffled at Clint when he started to follow Bruce around, looking at the doctor with wide eyes. They were there too late when Clint stood over Bruce’s naked body after he transformed back, shooting down any danger that dared to come near. They were there with shocked faces when Clint jumped off of the roof of the 145th-story building and Hulk so easily plucked him out of the air. They were there with knowing grins when Clint, blushing and stuttering, asked Bruce out. They were there at the first date, watching the two from a distance, making sure that everything went fine. They were there for practically everything.

Everything but one.

Bruce looked up, ready to answer their questions, ready to finally tell everyone what had happened in the café, ready to admit to his sins of destroying Clint’s heart, of betraying the trust, of just not getting this situation…

When Phil Coulson walked into the room, his suit dusty with ash and splattered with blood.

“What the?! Agent! What happened?”

“It’s Barton,” Coulson answered, his face grim. “He resisted capture.”

“Capture?! Isn’t that overdoing it? I mean, I’m sure Clint didn’t mean to hurt Bruce-”

The agent stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“Barton and Banner broke up,” Natasha informed him. “Why was my partner arrested?”

“He’s under suspicion of betraying SHIELD.”

There was a shocked pause as the Avengers registered what was told to them. Then the whole room bursted with energy, everyone having one thing or another to say. All but Bruce. Bruce had nothing to say. Nothing to add. Was this something that Clint did for attention? Trying to get back at Bruce for playing with the archer’s heart? But that was too petty. It wasn’t something that Clint would do. At least not on this scale. Then just what was going on? Why would Clint betray SHIELD?

“But in the light of this breakup, it’s starting to make sense,” Coulson continued, his hand on his chin as he looked thoughtfully at Bruce.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“It means that Barton’s done this once before in his SHIELD career.”

When everyone looked confusedly at Coulson, Natasha spoke up.

“Barton broke all contact with everyone he was familiar with before he went rogue to bring me in to SHIELD without killing me.” She stared at Coulson with a frown. “But he went rogue during the mission, so he couldn’t be contained back then. You guys are sure that he can’t escape? And who did he spare this time?”

“He’s currently in the solitary confinement on the Helicarrier. There’s more than enough agents guarding him, there’s no vents that he can use, and there’s also security cameras in the room. As for the target, he is a man named Wade Wilson,” Coulson said. Then he went into “Agent mode” and began to brief the team, catching them up on Clint’s latest mission.

The same mission that Clint finished early to come back to Bruce. The same one that somehow was tied to Clint finding out about Betty. The same one that Clint returned from and was never the same. Then did this mean that everything was just a mission? The whole breakup, the asking about Betty, all of it was just for the sake of bringing in a guy named Wade Wilson to SHIELD? Did that mean that Clint still liked him, still believed that Bruce liked him? Or was it not a mission and this was all a misunderstanding? None of this made any sense at all, and the only one who could point to the right pieces was Clint.

“Let me speak to him.”

Everyone turned to stare at Bruce. He looked back at everyone with a calm look. This was selfish, he knew. He was the one that hurt Clint. But there was a chance that this was a misunderstanding. That breakup that they had at the café was all staged. That meant that Bruce had another chance, right? That meant that he could try to see what Betty had said when she said that he was doing so well with Clint, right?

Coulson stared at Bruce with an unreadable look. After few minutes of uncomfortable staring, he nodded.

“Alright.”

+1.  
Bruce walked through the hallways of SHIELD’s Helicarrier, feeling antsy. The last time he was here, he hulked out and almost killed Natasha and a pilot. He really disliked being here. But he had to calm down. He couldn’t change to the Other Guy now. He had to talk to Clint. Get to the bottom of this.

He wasn’t too sure what he would say. Or why he wanted to see Clint anyways. Should he walk in as if nothing happened and greet the archer with the same old, same old? Or should he awkwardly bring up some small talk before getting to the core of everything? Should he ask for forgiveness? Beg for it? Should he ask Clint for a chance to be friends? What was he supposed to do?

Bruce bit his lips. In front of him, Coulson walked stiffly, almost angrily. Well, Bruce supposed he couldn’t blame the man. He didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle before and made a bad decision to hurt his old partner. On top of that, Coulson accused him of being a traitor. And if there was one thing that Bruce knew with all his heart, it was that Clint was loyal.

His heart stung from the thought. His fists clenched painfully tight, enough for his knuckles to become a pale white. He forced himself to breathe through his nose, to control his heartbeat. Damn it, this was just going to be a simple talk. He was going to ask Clint some questions and things would go from there. There was no reason to be nervous. No reason to-

“What the?!”

Bruce snapped back to reality by Coulson’s startled shout. In front of them, there were bodies of SHIELD agents, all lying dead around on the ground with a simple stab wound or slit throats. The agent and the doctor exchanged a quick glance. As Coulson turned to report the murder, Bruce ran for the solitary where they were holding Clint.

Why hadn’t he seen this one coming? If Clint tried to kill this Wade Wilson guy, why wouldn’t he come back as revenge to try and kill the archer? And if Clint didn’t try to kill Wilson, then of course the archer would use any means necessary to get out of the solitary. He was a trained killer as well as a SHIELD agent and knew exactly how they operated. Clint could get out of the solitary with ease if he really wanted to.

The doctor found the room and fought for control against the Other Guy when he noticed that the door was open. No, he was not going to snap. If Clint was still here, then he needed to talk with him. If he wasn’t there, then Bruce had to logically retrace the steps. He couldn’t destroy any evidence or-

Bruce slammed open the door and all but ran in. The room was empty save for the furniture; there was no sign of struggle. There was a cot on one side and a small bedside drawer. On the top of it, there was a single note.

 _What lovely bird you have caged,_ the note read. _Thanks for the gift. XO. Deadpool._

By the time backup arrived, Hulk had already wrecked the entire room. The Avengers were called to find him, who, after smashing the room, destroyed the wall and jumped down to run through the cities below. In the broken wreckage of the room, there was one thing that was left untouched:

A single note signed by a man named Deadpool.  



End file.
